


but look at our life now all tattered and torn

by ShyAudacity



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Boys In Love, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Mentioned Forsythe Sr., Mentioned Jughead Jones, School Dances, Secret Relationship, Set early season two, Slow Dancing, Song Lyrics, Young FP, i can never write enough fics about fred being in the hospital, young fred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 07:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16551308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyAudacity/pseuds/ShyAudacity
Summary: “Come dance with me,” FP says, hand held out.“There’s people around.”“No one’s actually watching, c’mon.”It’s winter formal and all Fred has done this whole night is mope and FP wants to change that. The only reason that Fred is pouting is because Mary Moore bailed on him at the last minute and it was too late to try and get Hermione to go with him.For the most part, FP is just tired of Fred sitting there looking like a kicked dog.ORA fredsythe fic inspired by Hold Me Now by The Thompson Twins.





	but look at our life now all tattered and torn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bisexualfpjones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualfpjones/gifts).



> I've been meaning to write this for a while and I wanted to get it out before the flashback episode airs tonight and completely ruins canon. Anyways, this is for Briana cause why not (I really wish I could write you that first time fic that you want but I can't, sorry). I highly recommend listening to the song while reading this. 
> 
> Unbeta'd and title from Hold Me Now by The Thompson Twins.

  1. **Junior year. Riverdale High gymnasium.**



“Come dance with me,” FP says, hand held out.

“There’s people around.”

“No one’s actually watching, c’mon.”

It’s winter formal and all Fred has done this whole night is mope and FP wants to change that. The only reason that Fred is pouting is because Mary Moore bailed on him at the last minute and it was too late to try and get Hermione to go with him.

For the most part, FP is just tired of Fred sitting there looking like a kicked dog.

“Just one song, Fred, I promise. A little dancing never hurt anybody, ‘sides its just a bunch of slow songs now anyways.”

Fred looks at him anxiously, and FP knows exactly what he’s thinking. They’ve been playing this back and forth game with each other for months now, this secret that only they know about. It’s hard, not being able to tell the world about him and Fred, but it’s better that they don’t, safer this way.

Lord only knows what would happen if Forsythe Sr. ever found out about this.

FP crouches a little, drops his voice to a soft whisper, “Please, Freddie.”

It’s the same voice that he uses when he’s trying to convince Fred to stay a little longer or convince him to sneak out for a burger. It usually works.

Fred looks around the school gym, checking that none of the chaperones or other students are looking their way, then takes FP’s hand and drags him off into the dark corner; FP’s grin is smug as ever.

Fred doesn’t let go of his hand even after they’ve stopped, “One song, alright?”

FP nods, “Sure. Whatever you say, big guy.”

Fred moves his hand up to FP’s forearm, stepping closer, his forehead resting against his shoulder. FP uses one hand to hold Fred’s elbow, the other going to the small of his back, moving his thumb across the fabric of his suit jacket; both of them begin to sway as a new song starts. It’s an old one from ’84; FP remembers how his Mom used to play it all the time, when she was still around, that is.

**_You say I'm a dreamer_ **

**_We're two of a kind_ **

**_Both of us searching_ **

**_For some perfect world_ **

**_We know we'll never find_ **

FP hums in Fred’s ear, trying to make him feel less afraid.

As the music goes on, he can feel Fred relaxing into his grip, just focusing on the music, on the two of them right there in that moment. It’s sweet and slow and everything that FP didn’t realize that he’d been missing out on; god, why didn’t he think to do this earlier?

The song comes to a close and FP kisses Fred on the forehead, wishing that he had the freedom to so much more.

Fred looks up at him, a new kind of light in his eyes, “You wanna get out of here?”

FP practically beams at him, “Yeah, yeah I’d love that.”

_I love you. I wish I was actually strong enough to say that._

Just like before, Fred is taking him by the hand, dragging him away from everyone else. Only this time, he doesn’t care who sees. 

///

“You can’t stay in this bed forever.”

“I could certainly try,” Fred says flatly.

FP sighs; Fred’s recovery hasn’t been going as smooth as everyone had hoped it would. It’s been slow and painful for the most part. Everyone can tell that it’s affecting Fred more than he’s letting on.

FP would give anything to go back in time and not get that phone call from his son, to not be so filled with fear in a split second. He’s barely left the hospital room in the last two days since he first arrived. 

“Just once around the hall, Fred.”

“My leg’s will give out before we even reach the door-.”

“Fine, then we’ll just stand, but you’re getting out of this bed one way or another,” FP says, getting out of his own chair. “Please, Freddie? For me?”

It’s that same sweet voice that he’s been using for years, the one that always gets Fred to fold.

Fred looks at him timidly, his eyes shining with something unreadable. “… I don’t wanna get hurt again, F.”

“You won’t. I’ll be here the whole time I swear.”

He worries his lip between his teeth, then softly says, “Okay.”

FP grins; he was beginning to think that Fred had given up on himself.

Actually getting Fred out of bed takes time, more time than it should, admittedly. Just easing him into a sitting position leaves him out of breath and grimacing, but FP never let’s go of his hands, not once. It’s another five minutes before he can hang his legs off the edge of the bed, six more after that to able to touch his feet to the ground. The tile is cold on the soles of his feet, makes Fred wish that he was wearing socks.

FP is holding him up by the elbow, his other hand at the small of Fred’s back while Fred keeps a firm grip on FP’s shoulder. It’s all familiar in a far off, strange way.

“Okay,” Fred asks. “So now what?”

FP almost sputters, ready to say _I don’t know idiot you only wanted to stand up I wasn’t even expecting us to get this far._ Then, an idea comes to him. While still holding Fred around the waist, FP digs his phone out of his pocket, looking for that one song that still makes him smile every time that he hears it.

“What are you doin’, FP?”

“You’ll see.”

The song starts playing out of the tiny speaker, and FP drops his phone onto the bed. Fred pulls a strange face for a minute before a smile occurs. He drops his head to FP’s shoulder.   

“Oh God, I forgot all about this.”

_I haven’t. Not even once. Who could forget the first moment they first fell in love?_

The two of them move slowly; FP makes it a point to keep his hands away from Fred’s injured side, not wanting to agitate or hurt him more. If he closes his eyes, for just a moment- he’s seventeen again, back in the high school gymnasium, holding Fred the same way that he is now, just as in love as ever. 

**_You ask if I love you_ **

**_Well, what can I say?_ **

**_You know that I do_ **

**_And that this is just one_ **

**_Of those games that we play_ **

The song fades out, and FP opens his eyes again, looking down just as Fred pulls his face away from his shoulder. They’re both far less afraid now than they were all those years ago, and what a relief it is.

“Love you, Freddie.” He says quietly, cautious even.

Fred catches FP’s gaze, eyes shining once again. He tightens his grip on FP’s arms, a smile growing.

“I love you, too, F.”  

And _goddamn_ if those aren’t some of the best words he’s heard all his miserable years. It makes everything else that’s gone wrong lately feel a little less like its going to destroy them, gives FP the feeling that maybe- just maybe- someday, they’ll make it out of this town alive.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/Kudos are appreciated and encouraged. You can leave a prompt here if you want. I'm on tumblr as archieandrewsprotectionsquad. Thanks again for reading, have a great day!


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